To Remove Or Not Remove That Is The Question
by lilsherlockian1975
Summary: This story is for theartstudentyouhate, she asked: Molly and Sherlock meeting at a tattoo removal clinic. They're both getting tattoos removed and one, if not both of them, are getting an ex's name removed. Sherlolly goodness, angst, humor and mention of past drug use.


_*****Thia is a rewrite, it's now been betaed by the amazing MizJoely. I can't thank her enough.*****_

_**This story is for theartstudentyouhate, she asked:Molly and Sherlock meeting at a tattoo removal clinic. They're both getting tattoos removed and one, if not both of them, are getting an ex's name removed. **_

_**I hope this is what you were looking for. It's where my head took me. Thanks for the prompt. **_

_**I own nothing.**_

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Molly sat in the doctor's office, anxiously awaiting her name to be called. She wasn't only worried about the procedure that was about to be performed, but the reason for it as well. She tried once again to focus on the journal in her hands. She was so distracted that she didn't hear the office door open or the man enter and sit down across from her, (even though there were plenty of other chairs available, since she was the only person in the room.) After several moments she got the feeling someone was staring at her, she looked up.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"I'm bored," he replied.

"Well doctor's offices aren't exactly Meccas of entertainment, so..." She went back to her journal.

"Tattoo removal. Ex-boyfriend," he stated.

"That's nice of you to share but I didn't ask."

"No, not me, you."

Molly blinked, "Oh, well yes. How...?"

"I deduced it." He shrugged his shoulders.

"Deduced?" she asked.

"Yes, recent break-up. You broke up with him of course," he said as he continued to study her.

"Y-yes, how did you?"

"Body language, demeanor, the general look of you. You're trying to read that journal, unsuccessfully I should say. But your mind keeps wandering, to the ex or the cause of the break-up I assume. You are very tense but not only about the tattoo removal, no, about giving up his name... making it so very final." He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Where is it?" He looked her over, his eyes landing on her lap as she fidgeted and crossed her legs. "Hmm, yes it's..."

"That's enough of that, thank you very much," she interrupted., "You know it's a very large waiting room, you could go sit somewhere else."

"Could, yes. Don't want to."

She rolled her eyes and went back to the journal. She wasn't in the mood for some weird, albeit strikingly handsome, stranger picking her apart. She just wanted to start the damn procedure and get her life back on track. The last man who chatted her up had caused her untold amounts of pain and she wasn't about to travel back down that road again.

"Forensic Pathology Monthly? Interesting..." he spoke up once again.

She drew a deep breath. "For a woman you mean," she said without looking up.

"Don't put words in my mouth. Must have been a nasty break up. You know not every man's a cheater and an arsehole. Some of us are just arseholes."

She looked up and saw him smiling. "You seem to have that down pat." She had to admit, her curiosity was piqued. Perhaps it was his eyes, they seemed to be several different colours at once. "Fine, if you insist on bothering me, what are you in for?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Figure it out."

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"I did."

She huffed. "What if I don't want to?"

"Then you'll never know."

Molly went back to her journal. The man continued to stare and Molly tried to ignore him, she really did, but it was no use. "Alright!" She tossed the periodical down on the seat next to her. "A dragon."

He crossed his arms. "A dragon, that's your guess."

"Yes, you're having a dragon removed from... your... left butt cheek."

He rolled his eyes. "Wild guessing will get you nowhere."

She shook her head. "I have absolutely nothing to go on. How am I supposed to figure it out?" She was really getting irritated with his little game (no matter how good looking he was.)

"Fine, I'll even the playing field, let you ask questions. I'll even start you out. It's like yours." He rolled his eyes mischievously. "Somewhat."

"Oh, so an ex..." She looked him over closely, it could go either way. He was well dressed, well groomed. Really gave no indication of sexual orientation. "Girlfriend?"

"Nope."

_Ah ha!_ "Boyfriend!"

"Nope."

_Huh?_ "Um, so like mine..."

"Sentimental."

"You said I could ask questions."

"You can."

"Picture or words?"

"Word."

"Mom?" she said with a sideways grin.

"Don't make jokes."

_Sentimental, one word... like mine_... She had an idea, though he didn't seem like the type, but she went for it. Not only that, but she said with confidence, "It's the name of your dog."

The man's eyes went wide and he stared at her in awe for a split second. She was momentarily elated with her correct deduction. They continued to stare at each other until the receptionist interrupted.

"Dr. Hooper."

Molly looked up at the woman, then walked to the desk.

"The doctor is running a bit behind. Do you mind waiting or would you like to reschedule?"

Molly thought about working up her courage to come back. "No, I'll wait. It's fine."

"Okay, sorry about the inconvenience," the woman said, then slid her little window closed.

Molly walked back to her seat and sat down.

"Dr. Hooper, you figured it out. You get a prize," the man said. "But first you have to tell me how you did it."

"Well." She eyed the stranger, "It wasn't an ex, but you mentioned sentiment, and it's a word. Frankly you don't seem like a cat person."

He nodded. "And your prize?"

Molly thought for a moment. This was suddenly fun. Her previous anxiety was gone and she couldn't wait to see what she could get from this mysterious stranger. "The name and the story."

"Oh, that's asking quite a lot, Doctor. But you've impressed me. You might not like what you hear though." He leaned back in his seat. "When I was seven my brother was going off to boarding school so my parents got me a dog, an Irish Setter. I didn't have many friends." He looked away from her for a moment. "_Any_, I should say. He and I became inseparable, we had so many adventures. I frankly liked him better than my insufferable brother." He looked back with a slight smirk. "He slept at the foot of my bed every night and met me every day when I came home from school. One when I got home, he wasn't there, I was ten." He glanced at his hands and back to her. "My only friend was dead. I didn't handle it well."

Molly was very nearly in tears. He was right, she wasn't enjoying her prize as much as she had expected.

"When I got out of rehab six months ago, there it was. His name. I don't even remember having it done." He rolled his eyes and huffed. "Sentiment." He reached up and started unbuttoning his fitted white, oxford dress shirt. Then he pulled the left side back to expose the word Redbeard tattooed right over his heart.

Molly leaned in unintentionally and examined it. For a tattoo received while high or drunk, it was lovely. It was in black ink, of course, and the font reminded her of pirates, though perhaps that was because of the word itself. She wasn't sure.

"Why are you having it removed?" she asked when he started buttoning up his shirt.

The man laughed ruefully. "Because it was a mistake, one of many I made during a time in my life I'd like to forget, _delete_."

"But you loved him. He wasn't a mistake." She suddenly felt very protective of his long lost dog. "It's not like mine. It's not like any future dog you own will see it and feel jealous or insulted that you have your previous dog's name on your chest."

"So is that why you're having you lover's name removed from your..."

"Again, no need to talk about where mine is," she rushed. "But needless to say if I ever choose to date again I'm sure no one will want to see another man's name on my..." She cleared her throat, "And frankly I don't need a constant reminder of the fact that I trusted a man who cheated on me with a skank with fake breast and bleached hair." He smirked again, and it made her stomach flip just a bit. She needed to move on. "My point is, yes, the memory of when it happened may be somewhat uncomfortable but it could also be a reminder to keep you strong. Not let those mistakes reoccur. Which I get the feeling you have no desire to ever let happen again. But Redbeard, he's a memory you should hold close to your heart." She had no idea why she was trying so hard to convince a total stranger to keep a tattoo of his dog's name, she just hoped it would work.

Suddenly door opened and a woman came out, spoke with the receptionist, then gathered her coat and left.

"I'll be next," Molly said.

"Right."

He didn't say anything else, just sat staring off in the distance until they called her name. When she stood and picked up her bag, he spoke to her once again.

"Thank you Dr. Hooper, and I'm sorry... for what happened to you. You didn't deserve to be treated in such a way."

Molly smiled and nodded then followed the nurse into the procedure rooms, wondering if he would be there when she came back out.

Sherlock had only sat down across from the woman because he didn't want to die of boredom while waiting his name to be called. He only started the conversation because she seemed anxious and he thought he could get a rise out of her. He never expected her to be so intelligent, certainly didn't expect her to be a doctor. He should have realised when he saw her reading the Pathology journal. However with all the forensic programs on the telly now a days, he had assumed she was just some amateur fangirl, they weren't uncommon.

He had gotten too caught up in their little game. It only took a few minutes to deduce her reason for being there. She had no façade, no walls whatsoever. She was completely open, so much so it was almost alarming. He really should have stopped after his deduction of her, he shouldn't have goaded her into trying to figure him out. Why had he done that? Why had he told her that story? He didn't divulge personal information to... well anyone, let alone a perfect stranger. And why was he considering taking her advice? Damn it, she had gotten to him. The pretty, little doctor, nursing a broken heart, had gotten to Sherlock Holmes. But that was impossible. He didn't even have a heart... did he?

He sat there for the next hour thinking about her and tattoos and his only childhood friend... Suddenly she came out of the exam room door.

When Molly saw that the man was still sitting in the waiting room, she was disappointed. She really had hoped that he would change his mind. She settled her bill with the receptionist and made her next appointment. It was going to take at least six more treatments to get Stephen's name removed. She walked over to the coat rack gathered her coat and put it on. Then she heard voices and she turned to see what was going on.

"...no I don't believe I will need to reschedule," he said.

"Okay, well if you change your mind, just give us a call," the woman behind the counter said before sliding the glass window closed once again.

He nodded and walked up to Molly.

"Changed your mind, then?" she said. As she looked up – and up! – at him, she realised just how tall he was.

"Ah, yes. I have. And I think we should have dinner to celebrate," he said as he picked up his coat.

"Oh really?" Molly asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, then you can tell me about that skull tattoo on your hip." He winked, putting his hand on her lower back and guiding her through the door.

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_**Let me know what you think, visit me on tumblr, same name! Lil**_


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